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A Husband's Regret (The Unwanted Series)(52)

By:Natasha Anders


"But I never stopped looking for you, Bron, and it wasn't just about  finding the baby. I think that part of me always knew that you would  never have done what I accused you of doing, so I had to find you to be  sure you were both okay. I was so ashamed of my behavior that I even  withheld the news of your pregnancy from Rick and Pierre. What I'd done  was completely inexcusable, and both Pierre and Rick would have had no  qualms about letting me know that." He raised his eyes to hers and  winced when he saw her tears. His jaw clenched and his hands curled into  tight fists before he lowered himself from the sofa to kneel directly  in front of her chair. He placed his hands on the armrests, effectively  caging her in, but she didn't feel trapped. Far from it. She felt . . .  liberated.

"I was such a fool, Bronwyn." His voice had lowered and she wasn't sure  he knew that he was speaking barely above a whisper. She had to strain  to hear him. "I'm a wreck of a man and I brought you into this hell with  me and ruined your life in the process."





  

"You didn't ruin my life," she protested, but he shook his head at her denial-not believing her.

"It sounds crazy to say that I loved you too much and that my love  destroyed us, but I feel like that's what happened. I'm toxic. I've  always known that and to even consider a fresh start with you . . ." He  laughed bitterly. "I'm a selfish idiot.

"Do you love me?" she asked him quietly, and he blinked at the question.

"What?" he asked blankly.

"Well, you just said that you loved me ‘too much.'" She rolled her eyes.  "As if that's such a bad thing. But you used the past tense. So do you  still love me?"

"That's a stupid question," he growled.

"It's a valid question," she dismissed.

"Of course I love you," he nearly shouted. "It's not a question of me not loving you-"

"I beg to differ," she interrupted, waving her hands at him. "It's very  much a question of you not loving me. You never told me you loved me.  Not once."

"Okay, when we married, quite honestly, I didn't even know I loved you. I  told you, I'd never had anyone love me for no reason before. I didn't  bloody know what love was!" His voice rose on the last three words, but  she merely raised her eyebrows at him.

"Do you know what it is now?"

"Yes," he whispered. "Yes, I know."

"Well?"

"It's . . . it's . . ." He floundered for a few moments before inhaling  deeply. "It's everything, isn't it? It's the quiet dinners when not much  gets said. It's the sunny days at the beach. It's hearing your laughter  in my head when I see Kayla giggling. It's seeing the love in your eyes  when you watch our baby sleep. It's watching the sun rise in your smile  and set in your tears. It's the contentment in seeing you eat and sleep  and study and play. It's the small, everyday things, like never getting  tired of watching you tuck that same stubborn strand of hair behind  your ear twenty times a day, and it's the huge life-altering things like  seeing your smile and my eyes on our beautiful little girl's face. It's  knowing that even if you turn away from me forever, I'll always be the  better for having had you in my life."

She leaned forward and stared deeply into his grave blue eyes for an  endless moment before reaching out to cup his strong and stubbled jaw  with her slender hands. He had trustingly laid his beautiful, wounded  soul into her keeping, and she would protect it fiercely.

"There you are," she whispered wonderingly as the edges of her lips  tilted up into a tiny smile. She formed her words as clearly as she  could, not wanting him to misunderstand her. "I've been looking for  you." His stern brows lowered in confusion, and she leaned down to press  a feather-soft kiss to his sensuous lips before easing back so that he  could see her face again.

"There's the man I married."

His eyes widened as her words registered. He swallowed and then  swallowed again, his Adam's apple bobbing with the movement. She watched  him valiantly try to keep it together, to remain strong as usual-but  her steady gaze seemed to completely unravel him. His shoulders heaved  as he drew in a convulsive breath, and the sound that tore loose from  his chest when he exhaled again was an unmistakable sob.

"It's okay," she said, stroking one hand down the side of his face, and  it was that gentle touch that undid him completely. His face crumpled,  his eyes filled, and he finally, finally, dropped every single defense  that he had built up over the years and allowed himself to weep. He  tried to turn away. Even after everything that he had just revealed, his  first instinct was to weather this storm of emotion alone; but Bronwyn  wouldn't let him.

She put her arms around his neck and held on tight. His head dropped  into her lap and she folded herself over him so that she was wrapped  around him. She crooned the same soothing little sounds that she used  when Kayla cried, hoping that he could feel the slight vibrations coming  from her chest and throat. His weeping was raw, violent, and  gut-wrenching. Her own tears had all but blinded her, but she was  determined to be strong for him, and she refused to allow them to  overwhelm her. This moment was for this beautiful man who was so very  terrified of allowing himself to be happy.

"It's okay," she whispered into his hair. "It's okay, Bryce." The words  were ridiculously inadequate of course. It was very far from okay, but  she was still processing the ugly truth and trying to figure out how to  deal with everything he had revealed. He was so very, very damaged, but  his revelations only gave her deep and abiding love for him a sharply  protective edge. She would be damned if she'd allow him to spend one  more second thinking that he wasn't deserving of her love. She now  understood that the mistakes he had made had been his twisted and  misguided attempts to protect her from the monster he believed himself  to be. The realization was heartrending, and her scorching tears slid  silently down her face and into his soft hair.





  

It felt like hours later when his sobs came to a shuddering stop. For a  moment he simply allowed himself to rest in her arms, before she felt  the tension creep back into his big body, and he lifted himself out of  her loving hold and moved to stand beside the window again. He kept his  eyes averted as he self-consciously tugged at his dress shirt, which had  wrinkled beyond repair. She watched as his ravaged face closed up and  shook her head with a sigh before standing up and placing herself  squarely in front of him, giving him no option but to meet her eyes.

She had carefully weighed all of her possible responses to his tormented  disclosures and knew that there was only one way to play this without  stomping all over his fragile male pride.

"You're an idiot," she said quietly, and he blinked in confusion.

"I don't . . ."

"How could you even think that you're capable of hurting Kayla or me?"  she asked, rolling her eyes to convey exasperation. "We've had some huge  arguments in the past, and I've never felt remotely threatened by you."

"Bronwyn, I always walked out in the middle of our arguments, remember?  It used to drive you crazy, but every time I felt myself getting too  angry, I'd rein in my temper and walk out because I was so terrified  that I would hurt you physically."

"Bryce, what's the angriest you've ever been with me?" she asked him gently, and he shrugged helplessly.

"When you told me you were pregnant?" His statement came out in question form, as if he wasn't entirely sure of his answer.

"No you weren't angry then," she denied. "You were afraid to allow  yourself to hope and lashed out because of that fear. I know that now.  I'm talking about real anger. The kind that makes you feel like your  head's going to explode."

"I don't know." He looked confused. "I don't think that I've ever  allowed myself to get too angry with you," he admitted, and she snorted,  showing her disdain with a dismissive flick of her wrist.

"Please, I can recall several incidents off the top of my head. Like the  time I told Rick that you enjoyed getting the occasional manicure with  me. You were so furious you were practically breathing steam."

"Okay, I was pissed off," he admitted uncomfortably, looking a little  uncertain. "Justifiably so, since Rick has never really let me hear the  end of it. He still makes the odd snarky comment about it. But that's  petty stuff. I'd hardly hurt you over something so trivial."

"Oh? Your father never beat you over trivial things then? Like a  three-year-old's accidently dropping a watch into a toilet bowl?"

"It was a gold watch," he muttered.

It was a watch! she signed fiercely. "Gold, diamonds, whatever. Breaking  a three-year-old child's arm because of it isn't a normal reaction.  What if Kayla did the same thing? Would you hit her? Break her arm?" He  paled at the question and shook his head in unconscious rejection.